


I Want To Know What Love Is

by GreyBlueSkies21



Series: Butterbeer and Houses Clothed In Red, Blue, Yellow And Green [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, Hogwarts AU, Hufflepuff Maggie Sawyer, I Will Go Down With This Ship, One Shot, Sanvers Week 2018, Slytherin Alex Danvers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyBlueSkies21/pseuds/GreyBlueSkies21
Summary: When Alex goes to Hogwarts, all she wants is to learn magic and get into the Gryffindor house. Two things, easy and simple.But what she leaves with, is much more important.





	I Want To Know What Love Is

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a little late for Valentine's Day, but I was rewatching episodes and this idea popped into my head and I just had to.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

The first time Alex sets foot in Hogwarts, she's eleven years old, her best friends Susan and Lucy are glued next to her, and there's an oddly _thrilling_ terror running through her veins.

 

The moon has set some type of shadow over the castle, making it loom and gleam in the starry night sky. It makes her dream of adventures and spells cast from the wand she's so tightly clasping.

 

 

It makes her think of home.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Obviously, she want's to get into Gryffindor.

 

 

Her father was in Gryffindor, as were Lucy's parents. Lois was a Gryffindor too, and Susan's family was built on Gryffindor blood.

 

 

So, really. It wasn't exactly an option.

 

 

Her feet shuffle when her name is called, a slow, stuttering action that makes the Ravenclaw near her snicker. She feels light as a feather suddenly. Loose and lost in anti-gravity that threatens to take her away.

 

 

_Nervous._

 

 

 

The hat settles softly on her head, smelly old leather that feel likes mountains and oceans and absolutely nothing at all both weighing down and straining against her skull.

 

 

 **"** **Ah. Ms. Danvers,"** it says.  Deep and grave.

 

 

Her heart pumps in her chest.

 

 

_Da-dumpth. Da-dumpth. Da-dumpth._

 

 

 **"Such** **wit, such intelligence. You'd make a good Ravenclaw. And you're brave too. You'd do anything to protect your sister, hmm? Gryffindor would suit you well... "**

 

 

The pause is almost tangible, and she can feel the inevitable _but-_ lurking in his sentence.

 

 

" **But you're ambitious. Talented. Slytherin would make a fine home for you, Alexandra. A place to flourish."**

 

 

Something in her freezes at that, body rigid, lump in her throat.

 

 

Slytherin's are known for being wrong.

 

 

Dangerous.

 

 

Treacherous cold monsters that'll betray you and feed you to the wolves.

 

 

Dark marks, cold eyes and black hearts.

 

 

Hissing tongues and flashes of green that end lives.

_Da-dumpth. Da-dumpth. Da-dumpth._

 

 

The hat pauses, makes a humming sound that only she can hear.

 

 

 

Vibrating against her skull, lost in the empty space that exists between the inevitable before and after that is about to come. A no-man's land filled to overflowing with things she can't bear to think of.

 

 

It travels through her skull, down her nerves, into her marrow.

 

 

 **"** **Slytherin!"**

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

The next week is marked by the trickled edge of a clock and oceans of unbridled fear roaring in her ears.

 

 

Daylight becomes moonlight which becomes midnight and sunrise before the cycle all starts again.

 

 

Night and day.

 

 

Day and night.

 

 

An oddly fascinating juxtaposition, a distraction from the disjointed beat of _wrong_ that she feels.

 

 

And then Saturday brings trouble in the form of warm chocolate eyes and a short, feisty Hufflepuff by the name of Maggie Sawyer.

 

 

Said Hufflepuff is found sitting in at the lab table that the potions Professor had saved for her to practice during lunch.

 

 

Alex stalks up there with a steely bravado pumping where her blood used to be and an icy glare in her eyes.

 

 

"What the hell are you doing at my table?"

 

 

The girl looks up, shiny smooth black hair cascading over her eyes. She doesn't even look fazed.

 

 

"Well, Ms. You-just-messed-up-my-potion, what does it look like?"

 

 

Alex snorts, placing her knapsack down and crossing her arms, her voice taking a considerably harder tone.

 

 

"I don't know, and I don't care. But, Professor Grant saved this table for me, so I could practice. Find your own table."

 

 

The girl straightens, eyes her with a considerable force.

 

 

A long pause drags out, noticed only by the thick tension and brown eyes glaring down brown. Neither move.

 

 

And then the girl takes out a scroll from her robs, unrolls it, and shoves it in Alex's face.

 

 

_Maggie Sawyer has permission to use potion lab table D for use at lunch, today, October 1 st, 2000 _

 

 

_Signed, Professor Garrick._

 

 

Alex squints while reading it and fists her hands at her sides, because, _of course_ she does.

 

 

The girl, _Maggie_ , lets out a huff of air, runs a slender hand through her hair.

 

 

Fifty percent annoyed. Fifty percent amused.

 

 

And Alex?

 

 

She's three shades shy of a fist fight, resolve wary and drained from the argument she had with Lucy earlier.

 

She's frustrated, with the emotion blaring and pounding in her skull and the taste of it, bitter thick and sour on her tongue, is readily identifiable. There is bubbling anger as well, from wasting time and simple annoyance, but that one has tended to run close to second nowadays, so she's not as confused as she once was.

 

 

She's just pissed. Plain and simple.

 

 

"I showed you mine. You show me yours."

 

 

The scroll slams down on the table a little harder than Alex would have preferred, but, if it bothers Maggie, she doesn't show it.

 

 

Instead, she looks up, a ghost of a smirk on her lips and shoves her stuff to the other side of the bench.

 

 

"Okay. Then, there's only one thing we can do."

 

 

Alex blinks in surprise, her recently summoned bravado disappearing, mouth slightly hung open because, she certainly wasn't expecting this.

 

 

And Maggie has the most adorable dimpled smile which Alex totally _isn't_ staring at.

 

 

Totally.

 

 

"Wh-What?"

 

 

Her comment throws her off track momentarily, rendering her speechless for a beat (or several), and it's not a stumble she'll ever readily admit to.

 

 

"We share it," Maggie reiterates, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

 

 

Alex gapes at the brunette, feels her mouth drop to open soundlessly, staring and studying her without coming to an easy conclusion that would explain what exactly is happening. And then, carefully, she sits.

 

 

 (After all, she can see a race that's been lost before she even identifies where the finish line could be. And wasting time has never been a priority of hers, not with mountains of essays and the strive to be the _best_ inscribed in her very bones.

 

 

So, she sits, lets the anger dissipate slightly, and takes the small mercy for what it is.)

 

 

They work quietly, flasks clinking, wands lighting up, right up until the halls began to fil with people, the previous lingering trickling shooting to a full-blown gush as lunch slowly ended.

 

 

Maggie extends her hand when they finish packing, a slight smirk on her face.

 

 

"Nice meeting you."

 

 

Alex pauses, takes Maggie's hand in her own with a small noise of delighted surprise, "You too, Sawyer."

 

 

The brunette smiles and walks off with one last wave sent in Alex's direction. It makes Alex's heart tingle, the feel foreign and comfortable all in the same damn second.

 

 

"See ya around, Danvers."

 

 

And Alex really hopes she does.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

Ten years later, one ring and two beers later, Alex spares a glance at the sleepy brunette in her lap.

 

 

The house echoes with joyous memories from another time, from some other place, promises of forever and family and lips on soft lips.

 

 

 _"_ _Will you marry me, Danvers?"_

 

 

Alex smiles. Places a feathery kiss on her wife's forehead and whispers words into her hair, incredulous, inhales the smell of lavender shampoo and Floo powder, (a scent so distinctly _Maggie_ ),  with a practiced ease of someone who's been doing this for years.

 

Let's the smaller woman's sleeping form fill her insides all the way to giddy overflowing.

 

Goes back to watching the news, content.

 

 

Happy.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Want me to turn it into a series? I'm thinking about it, but I'm not entirely sure if I should.


End file.
